Coin Operated Boy
by Paranoia Doll
Summary: He was perfect for me. Kind, sweet, funny, original. There's only one problem: I was only with him save myself from the pain I was afraid of experiencing with another man. Do I have feelings for either of them at all? JeffHardyxOCxRandyOrton
1. Prologue

**A/N: ****My first WWE story? RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! I am a hypocrite. The prologue to the is incredibly short but it's just an introduction. I hope you all enjoy my lame ass story.**

* * *

**Coin Operated Boy**

_**Prologue**_

Before, during, after. Doesn't matter, really. Try to follow closely on this.

I am unique in the way that I am not choosing to be unique. Do I look that way to you? There are no things distinct in what I wear, in how I put on makeup, in how I do my hair. My features belong to my families already. Every eye color has been done already too. Genes are simply passed on.

And on.

_And on._

_**And on.**_

We're not breaking any mold.

What about you? Are you or are you not unique? Everyone gets their styles from somewhere.

I only say this for one reason that I want you - the reader, the thinker - to consider. The world has given us guidelines on what to think, what to feel. And to an extent they are followed. You walk into a clothing store usually with a general idea of what you want. What do I like? What will _other_ people like? What will other people _not_ like? What will _surprise_ them? We feed off reactions and, depending on who you are, you act accordingly.

That's the question, isn't it though? _Who __**are**__ you?_

We are not defined by our outside appearance, not even by our personalities. What are we defined by?

Our personalities are defined by why we do the things we do. From what we do for attention to the dirty little secrets we keep locked away in the recesses of our minds.

What if you don't know why? You still do, the reason is hidden, even to you, in that head of yours. It's cause and effect. What's your cause? Why do you do the things you do? I can't read your mind, but I'll let you delve into mine for a little while.

As a member of the creative writing staff of the WWE, it's essential, unfortunately, to meet with the wrestlers. I've only worked here a year and have met with nearly all the Superstars of all the rosters. Personal bias aside, I try my best to keep things interesting for them and the fans. Now this wasn't exactly my dream job. Maybe when I was eighteen and still completely fascinated with the spectacle of wrestling, but seven years can change a person. So I suppose my real reasoning was to show those other writers how to do their job.

I had been a year away from my bachelor's degree in Film when I had sent them feedback on a recent pay-per-view. It was less feedback and more nonsensical ranting. I had noticed an ad on the site for careers in WWE. What can I say? I may not have liked it anymore but I was curious. My curiosity grew when I saw the title of Creative Writer.

**_Requirements: _**

****_**Qualified candidates should possess:**_

_-__BA/BS in Film, TV, Drama, Media Studies, Communications or equivalent_

_-__Minimum of three to five years writing and production experience in network television_

_-__Professional TV staff experience in drama and comedy a plus_

_-__Experience in all aspects of live TV production a plus_

_-__Highly creative (a prolific idea generator)_

_-__Plugged into pop culture and trends_

_-__Able to work closely and effectively with talent, writers, and producers throughout the creative process_

_-__Strong understanding of WWE's audience (demographic and psychographic) a plus_

_-__Must live in Stamford, CT area or be willing to relocate there_

_-__Knowledge of WWE shows, talent, and storylines_

_-__Excellent communication skills and the ability to work in a team environment_

_-__Flexible travel schedule (extensive travel required)_

Maybe I a bit overly confident, but with a chance like that, you'd have to be. It wasn't long before I started applying to television networks so much that they probably got sick of my constant badgering. It was either hire me or arrest me.

I was arrested twice.

I considered myself lucky the third time. I had gotten a writing job on the staff of a third rate sitcom that only lasted one season. Later on that year, after graduated from NYU, I opted on working for the local news crew and was a savior to the crew of an underrated awards show during a short lived writer's strike. I had returned to watching wrestling, for professional purposes only. I went to wrestling sites and forums to see what the fans were saying. By the time of my 24th birthday, instead of e-mailing the corporate branch of the WWE, I bought a ticket to Stamford, Connecticut to meet with them in person.

That's where I reside now, a year later. I'm not all that sociable with my colleagues or those I write for. Constant run-ins with some of the superstars have made them more or less friends. And that is where this story will begin.

By the time you finish this, you might very well hate me. It started innocently enough until my conscience decided to take an extended vacation. People have been made fools of and hearts have been broken all for my own ends; for my own, as we discussed before, cause.

So then what exactly _is_ my cause?

A plastic fantasy.

_TBC_.


	2. Chapter One: Newbie

**A/N: My characters seem to have a tendency of being not so nice. I dunno I kinda like that it kills any chance of a happy ending. No matter what, the innocent ones get hurt. Yay!**

**Chapter One: Newbie**

The meeting at the beginning of the week was usually to discuss short term and long term storylines with the superstars, long term meaning a vague plotline for the next few weeks or months and short term meaning a more detailed plot for the week.

For the last month and a half I had been working with the Smackdown roster leading up to Armageddon, which was actually in another month. It was the first time I had gotten a say in the plot leading up to a major title match and depending on how it goes over with the ratings and fans, they would give me the chance to work with a select number of writers and superstars on the road to Wrestlemania. Usually while we worked with a certain number of superstars on a short term, week-by-week storyline, we were also starting to meet on others days with superstars for advanced, long term plots.

Have I mentioned that I hate having to refer to them as "superstars"?

That day two other writers, Toby and Josh, were working with me as continued going over scripts with Dave, Mark, and Adam. When I say Dave, Mark, and Adam, I mean Batista, Undertaker, and Edge, which I'm sure many of you knew already. All six of us sat in a meeting room, not so much discussing the plots anymore. I felt a little bit bad for the wrestlers in the room. Every other sentence that came out of my peers' mouths just so happened to be "remember that one time…". Mark and Adam seemed bored out of their skulls while Dave was explaining something to Josh in obvious exasperation. I stayed to myself seeing as I had already gone over the key points of the meeting and had no other use for being there. Besides, twirling my pencil in my hand was much more interesting.

I was going to leave but decided against it. Usually, since it was the first Saturday of the month, we would get our next long term assignment that would lead up to the next month. I was actually excited considering the pay-per-view I'd be working on would be the Royal Rumble which was the main lead up to Wrestlemania. Part of me was scared shitless at the prospect of having my ideas show up on the crowned jewel of the entire corporation. The other part of me was scared because I was actually enjoying wrestling again.

"Audrey?"

I blinked and dropped my pencil as it fell to the floor with a loud clack. My eyes darted to where the voice had come from to register that it had been Adam. I quickly snatched up my pencil and pretended to look as unflustered as possible. "Yeah?"

All the guys were looking at me with amused grins which only made me want to smack every one of them.

"Anything you'd like to add?" Josh asked with a snicker.

"Nah," I said, nonchalantly leaning back in my chair. "I don't particularly like talking to people I've worked with for the last month like an awe-struck teenage girl."

Mark, Dave, and Adam laughed while Toby and Josh's faces fell. Before they could think of a counter a knock from the door reached our ears and the creaked softly open. There with an impossibly huge grin plastered on her face, stood Stephanie McMahon-Levesque with a manila folder in hand. "Hey guys! I assume everything's going well."

There was a round of mumbled responses, summing up into to one big "yes". Her grin slightly faded as her attention went to me. "Miss Newsted?"

I gulped down hard at the formal use of my name. "Yes, Mrs. Levesque?"

"I'd like to speak with you in my office immediately," she said in an intimidating tone. I nodded vehemently, hearing more snickers and stifled laughter from Josh and Toby. I stood up, straightening out my skirt before walking over to the three wrestlers in the room. I gave them each a hug, muttering repeatedly about trying not to break me in half. They let out a few laughs before saying goodbye, as did I before following my boss out of the room.

It's funny now, in a cosmic sort of way, how I used to make fun of her when I was younger and now she holds my future in her very well manicured hands. I hate cosmic jokes.

She walked down the hall at a very quick pace as I tried my best to stay in toe. She didn't say one word to me in the halls as we passed people in other meetings and at computers. Everyone seemed utterly stressed and on edge no matter what they were doing, but that's generally how it went at the beginning of every month. We're our own chaotic little world behind the scenes.

Mrs. Levesque pushed open the door to her office, motioning for me to come in as well. I sat down in one of the two seats that were set in front of her desk and folded my hands on my lap. She sat down in the giant leather seat behind her desk opening the folder as she began to speak. "So, Audrey, I've been getting some complaints from your fellow writers lately for... 'blatant disregard for colleagues during meetings'."

In my mind, I was thinking of all the different ways I could murder Josh and Toby while my heart raced a bit faster. I bit my tongue before I could remark thankfully. She set down my folder and gave me an unreadable stare before letting out a laugh. "Don't look so high-strung, you're not on trial here."

I unfolded my hands and sat back a little bit, exhaling in relief. Mrs. Levesque flipped idly through the pages inside the folder, examining each for a few seconds. "You've been with the WWE for a year now, right?"

"Yes, Mrs. Levesque."

She cringed a bit before glancing at me for a moment. "Call me Stephanie. I can't stand formalities."

I nodded and waited for her to speak again.

"Audrey, like in every business," Stephanie began, standing up, "there are people who make it and people who don't. Not everyone here is going to make it. They think of the WWE like any other writing job on their resume." She walked around her desk and began pacing. "There are few, truly creative writers on this staff that have known this business long before they even considered this career." She stepped in front of me and crossed her arms. "I believe you are one of those writers. Not only is your previous work exceptional, but what you've written for us in the past year had been entertaining and way above-par for someone so young."

I withheld the giant smile threatening to form on my face and the absolute joy in the pit of my stomach.

I'm guessing she could tell my excitement anyway from the amusement on her own face. "We have two more pay-per-view events to begin working on before the big one and I want to see what you can do for the Raw roster for the Royal Rumble main event."

Unable to hold in my excitement for any longer, I let out a tiny squeak much to my own embarrassment. Stephanie eyed me and raised her eyebrows. I cleared my throat nervously, sitting up straighter in my seat. "Thank you, Mrs. Lev-...I mean Stephanie."

Without a hesitation she continued and resumed her pacing. "You'll be working with two of our executive writers for the next two months on the plot leading to Wrestlemania, and depending on how your Smackdown audience reacts to the current storyline, you might just being working on the spectacle itself."

I held in the rest of my excitement and kept a somewhat calm demeanor as she continued filling me in on my new assignment.

* * *

The hours between the morning meeting and the afternoon meeting were excruciatingly long, lunch was even overbearing. My laptop lost its entertainment factor a half hour after I had finished eating. I silently wondered if I could take a nap on one of the smaller tables until the meeting, but decided against it simply for the fact that there was no way I was about to sleep. Besides, the meeting was only an hour after lunch.

In my defense, that was the longest half hour of my life.

I was on my fourth game of solitaire before I felt a light tap on my shoulder. I glanced up to my right to see a moderately tall woman smiling at me. It wasn't really a pleasant smile either. She brushed a strand of chestnut brown hair out of her eye before speaking. "Newbie, right?"

I paused for a moment and blinked before nodding. "I generally go by Audrey, sometimes Aud if I'm feeling friendly." I could tell she was about to speak but I couldn't help myself. "Oh! And my personal favorite, 'hey, get the hell out of my seat'."

The woman gave me an impatient stare. "Mind if I call you that last one?"

"Rae, let's try not to kill the new girl," a deeper voice from behind me called out. We both turned around to identify the voice, finding a slightly graying man wearing thick glasses rolling his eyes.

The girl, Rae I presumed, let out a strange cross between a whimper and a growl at the request, which was followed by a sneer in her voice as she spoke. "Charlie, this is 'hey, get the hell out of my seat."

Charlie smiled politely and extended his hand to me which I obligingly shook. "Nice to me you, Audrey."

"You too," I said with a nervous laugh as I shook his hand.

He let go of my hand and nodded towards the very irritated woman next to me. "You've obviously met Rae already."

Another nervous laugh. I'm good at those.

"Now we only need the last two members of our group and we'll be ready," Charlie said confidently, taking a seat at the table to one side of me while Rae roughly pulled a chair to the other side of the table and took a seat. It wasn't the most comfortable silence but it was a whole hell of a lot better than when we had been speaking to one another. We stayed at our corners in our own little worlds as Rae filed her nails and Charlie took out what looked to be a Palm Pilot. I, myself, was occupied with another rousing game of solitaire at the moment until we heard the doors swing open.

I turned around to find a rather tall, muscular man with a buzz cut walking our way, his tight black t-shirt leaving no bit of definition of his chest to the imagination. He had a bit of a strut to the way he walked over coupled with the tiniest hint of a smirk playing on his lips as his bright blue eyes scanned over the three of us. There was a look of disgust coming from Rae while Charlie had a clearly plastered on that fake grin spread across his face. I simply blinked and raised an eyebrow at the man as he took a seat in between my two fellow writers. Of course I wasn't too intimidated by the WWE champion._But who would be after working with a legend like the Undertaker?_

He gave me a glance, his smirk spreading ever so slightly. I shrunk down in my seat as unnoticeably as possible.

_Then again, he is the legend killer...I'm going to pretend I didn't think that._

I shook off the glance as Randy Orton began to talk amongst us.

"Charlie, nice to see you again," he began pleasantly, turning from the older man to the younger woman, "and Rae...the macabre never looked better."

"Bite me," Rae snarled, folding her arms and slouching in her chair.

Randy flashed a grin her way as he leaned back lazily in his chair. "Tempting as always, but I'll pass."

"Randy, this is one of our newer writers, Audrey Newsted," Charlie interrupted cheerfully, motioning to me with another false smile.

"Breaking in the new blood, huh?" Randy replied, his eyes going back to me as they flashed in the light. "So, _Audrey_, you here to stir up some trouble?"

My smile twisted a bit. "I prefer the term chaos."

"Did I hear the word chaos?"

Again all our heads shot to the door to find a very winded looking Jeff Hardy, his green and purple hair falling out of his ponytail and into his face. He jogged up to the last remaining seat between Rae and I and, before sitting down, shot his hand out my way. He smiled, a much more innocent smile than I had seen at the meeting so far, his black lip ring shining in the fluorescent light. "Nice to meet ya, I'm Jeff."

I obviously knew who he was but the sentiment was nice. I returned the smile graciously. "Audrey."

As if some dark shroud had been lifted, the atmosphere of the room lightened and even Rae was giving a toothy grin. Unfortunately, she looked even more evil when she smiled. It was actually a bit frightening.

"So, the Rumble's coming and here's what we got to work with: at Armageddon, Jeff is going to take the win over Triple H for the number one contender spot. Randy, due to the interference of JBL, retains the WWE title," Charlie began, pulling out a notebook full of loose-leaf paper. "This is where we come in."

Rae reached down to her bag are pulled out a spiral notebook, flipping through the pages with a sigh. "According to recent audience demographics..."

It's a little bit sad, but after hearing the word 'demographics', I stopped listening. We all knew how the crowd felt about the two wrestlers in the room. I glanced back and forth between the two men, to find they were just about as interested as I was. Jeff watched his fingers as they tapped to an unrecognizable rhythm, pausing ever so often and starting over a few times. On the other side of the table, Randy was leaning his chair back and forth and staring at the ceiling. I glanced at the ceiling myself for a moment in confusion. _Nope nothing interesting up there._

"Audrey?" Charlie said as my eyes darted from the ceiling to him.

"Uh huh?" I asked, my tone dripping with uninterest.

The older man eyed me curiously. "Is there something interesting on the ceiling that's keeping you from our conversation?"

"That's...kinda what I was wondering," I said sheepishly. Both he and Rae glared at me as I pointed to Orton. "He started it."

To my right, I heard a snorted laugh which I found came from Jeff, who had his fist over his mouth trying very hard to suppress another. Across the table, I noticed Randy had raised an eyebrow at me and looked like he was about to let out a laugh himself. Unfortunately my two fellow writers didn't seem quite as amused as they continued to glare daggers my way. I straightened in my seat and cleared my throat before mumbling some sort of apology.

Without missing a beat, Charlie began speaking again as all of us tried to (at least pretend to) listen. It was a shame considering his voice came out of his mouth slower than syrup. Even Rae looked bored after a half hour. Luckily the meeting ended a few minutes later or else we would have all killed him. "Rae, Audrey, and I will throw some ideas together for next week's meeting which you'll both have a chance to compound on. Until then, have a great week."

Charlie closed his notebook as did Rae, before they both stood up and began to walk out. I growled as Rae muttered to her colleague, "Hmph, another brilliant newbie."

"Well," Randy began, standing up, "the next few meetings might actually be interesting. Imagine that."

He half-grinned at me, those blue eyes flashing again in the light. "See you guys next week then?"

Without hearing a response from either of us, he turned on his heel and walked out of the room.

As the door shut, I stood with my laptop case and heaved a sigh. I pushed in my chair and began to walk out of the room, dragging my feet for added effect.

"Don't take what Rae says too seriously."

I stopped in my tracks and spun around, completely forgetting that I wasn't the only person in the room. I glanced over to see Jeff still sitting in his chair at the table. "She's just not good with new people. Don't let her intimidate you."

I didn't reply, but instead nodded and smiled.

Awkward silence enveloped the two of us as I shuffled my feet slightly. I cleared my throat for the second time that day. "Well, I suppose I'll see you next."

He looked up at me with a small smile playing on his lips. "Yeah."

"Have a good week," I said before pausing and adding, "and thanks...for the advice."

He grinned and shrugged. "No problem. You have a good week too."

I nodded, and without even touching the subject of why he wasn't leaving like the rest of us were, I turned and walked out of the room. As I travelled down the hall, I exhaled loudly an scratched my head. That was...interesting.

That was the last thought that went through my head before walking out into the bitter cold of Stamford.

_**TBC.**_


End file.
